


Carrier

by solo (gay_wristwatch)



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_wristwatch/pseuds/solo
Summary: Waverly cares for Nicole during her stay in the hospital and as she continues her recovery at home. Having lost so many of the ones she loves, Nicole's every living breath carries her through the wrenching pain of what's happened.





	Carrier

**Author's Note:**

> k i'm probably gonna regret posting this after speed-writing it and barely editing but i can't not tonight. i've been tense all day waiting for the episode lol.
> 
> lemme know about any mistakes please. i probably fucked the tenses too.
> 
> p.s. listen to Carrier by Misery Signals (fair warning, it's metal)

Waverly's watching her world break down again.  
  
When the Seven took Willa and Wynonna shot their father, all after their mother left, she'd been too young to do anything but feel fear and react to the pain. For years as she grew her deepest dream was to be able to fix what was wrong in her life. At the top of the list stood the Curse, and to her endless frustration she seemed doubly-cursed; she couldn't do a thing about it. Her knowledge didn't mean shit until Black Badge; it was a passion fueled by her need to seize agency, wield some power for once, and her love of knowledge. She needed Wynonna, the person she wanted but couldn't call or text or email back despite her desperation.  
  
She should've become a doctor, that's what. It's looking at Nicole, pale and still a few feet away that forces the thought–she knows it's not true–but Waverly is shaking with fury and sorrow and fear in every nerve again, and she finds herself useless again too. She's cried in everyone's arms the past few hours (she thinks, because time is lost on her right now). It hasn't helped.  
  
After Nicole had stabilized enough in the local hospital, Wynonna and Waverly had sped to the city in the wake of the helicopter carrying Nicole to the nearest ICU.  
  
They'd commandeered Nicole's cruiser and burned rubber with the siren wailing the whole way.  
  
Waverly's exhausted, but the rhythmic beep of Nicole's heart monitor only haunts her. She can't even sit down; her skin is alive with panic simmering underneath the surface, and she's barely keeping herself under control.  
  
Every hour Nicole doesn't wake up is another hour Waverly feels she can't breathe.  


* * *

  
  
It's several days later and Waverly hasn't felt this drained..maybe ever. Somewhere inside there's relief building; Nicole's been transferred out of ICU and should be going home after a few more days. She's woken up a few times.  
  
Those moments were brief and silent and some of the most arresting of Waverly's life. She wanted to say everything at once, yet her speech seemed completely incapacitated. Nicole looked at her occasionally but mostly stared at her hands or the sheets if she didn't close her eyes and lean her head back. A thick cord of tension strained the air between them but Waverly was determined to stay as much as possible.  
  
Waverly, on the other hand, could hardly look away from Nicole and her pale skin and dry lips and tired eyes. She fed her girlfriend ice chips, glad that Nicole allowed her to. The TV on the opposite wall was useless–comedy was inappropriate and drama and the news were depressing. Anything simply inane, like QVC or reality shows, was more infuriating than dully entertaining.  
  
So Waverly brought books next time she came back from Purgatory, and filled the silence with her voice traversing some of her to-read list.  
  
"Hey," it's essentially a whisper, even though they're alone in the room and there's no reason to be so quiet. Nicole's eyes flutter open and she meets Waverly's questioning gaze. "I thought maybe I could read to you? If you want? I have these books that I've been meaning to read. You know how I do that thing where I buy books and want to read them but then I have so many I don't get to them...and keep buying more–" Nicole makes a face and Waverly stops herself. "Sorry."  
  
"Which one do you want to start with? Oh, you didn't even say yes. If you want me to just–" This time Waverly is arrested by Nicole's touch. It's the first time she's initiated a touch since...since the fight in Shorty's. It's light and just on the back of her hand but suddenly Waverly's hit with how much she misses Nicole.  
  
Nicole tries to talk but it takes a few ice chips and attempts before she can get the words out.  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
Waverly chokes up and nods with a small watery smile. After a few moments she lists off the books and hands them to Nicole one by one.  
  
" _Confessions of a Mask, Dubliners, Coriolanus, Shakespeare's Sonnets,_ and _Inferno._ " Nicole shrugs.  
  
"Okay, let's just go with...Dubliners. Short stories. Not too much commitment." Waverly winces internally at that last comment and hopes it didn't show on her face.  
  
_The Sisters_ is first and it's somewhat hard to get through, not because it's Joyce, but the themes lay heavy in the room. They look at each other and it's significant somehow, an agreement to talk about this and...everything, later. When they're not in pieces.  
  
_Araby_ and _Eveline_ are intriguing enough for conversation to spring up between them, mostly carried by Waverly as she vocalizes her thoughts on each piece, but Nicole is smiling more and Waverly feels the weight that settled into her chest during this ordeal lightens a little bit each time.  


* * *

  
  
They get through Dubliners but Nicole is released the next day. Waverly wheels her out of the hospital and drives her home, and helps her up the stairs to her apartment. She whips up a light salad and some toast for Nicole and sits and fidgets while the redhead eats.  
  
"So. I–I know we have to talk about a hell of a lot," Nicole's eyes flick up from her salad.  
  
"But you're not really close to one hundred percent yet, and I really want to help you. Will you let me?" A moment passes that's longer than Waverly is comfortable with, but Nicole says yes and thanks her.  
  
"Will you let me say something else? I need to, Nic–" She stops when Nicole drops the fork and turns toward her, apparently giving Waverly her full attention.  
  
_Deep breath._ "Okay," Waverly knows telling herself to not cry is useless, so she settles for at least getting out what she needs to before she can't speak anymore.  
  
"I can't tell you how much I regret the way I treated you. This might be bad timing but I love you too, Nicole. This isn't just because I-I..." She swallows and waits a moment. Breathes.  
  
"I almost lost you. Before they attacked you, I was mad as fuck and I was drinking and...just unhinged. I don't know. And even before that, I was still shitty. And there's so much more but for now, just please know I'm not holding anything against you. If I lost you I think...I think I would've lost myself too. You're..." Waverly was crying now. "You're everything."  
  
She'd leaned forward in her tirade and held Nicole's gaze all the way through it. Nicole's face softened gradually and at last, she reached out and they joined trembling hands. Waverly can't help herself; she's moving to her knees and kissing Nicole's hands, but when she realizes her girlfriend's face is too far to kiss she balances herself on the arm of the chair and peppers light, slow kisses all over Nicole's features. They embrace and Waverly can't feel time in Nicole's arms, with Nicole warm and breathing in _her_ arms, such a welcome contrast to the cold, limp state she'd found the strong redhead in those few weeks ago.  
  
Waverly feels her life shift in the right direction after what feels like years watching it endlessly break apart as she and Nicole pull themselves together and hold tight. That might be all Waverly really has to do for things to feel right.


End file.
